― (𝐋)𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐋 / 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓

#a.hypocrite

probably gonna take a break from this account for abit.

some shit going on irl, and i don't want things here to compound with them.

i'll be around on @sdnmaintainer.bsky.social and @oceanfiend.bsky.social, sometimes. probably.

discord's here for whoever wants it, too.

#a.hypocrite

not feeling the best today, we'll see about tomorrow.

Telling Silvia she’s out of line has gotta be the fucking embodiment of:
Yeah, no shit.

#a.hypocrite

i love this verse, but goddamn, i'm tired boss.

listen to.

"Jacket off, Kara."

and slipping a set of shears from her kit. "I'll try to keep it intact."

Her tone was... Oddly, calm. The usual sort-of growl was mostly gone, replaced with the serenity of a professional. Authoritative, yes, but similar to a guiding sibling. Someone whose advice, and demands, you'd actually +

they could render self-aid, but more important, it was their for their comrades to use. You weren't supposed to render aid from your own kit, just in case you went down, and it had to be used on you.

"I'm gonna have to cut at your shirt," she observed, taking a knee in-front of the kryptonian +

Guiding Kara to a fallen log, Silvia was silent as she took afew glances to make further assessments over the wound, making a mental note of what items she would need to restock on her individual kit later.

All warfighers, nomatter who they were, carried some form of medical. The intent was that +

over Spartan territory unanswered- if anything, as was most often the case, Silvia was the intruder. Someone whose presence couldn't be confirmed, assuming it was even known.

She was a phantom. The entire ODA was- every single one of them were nothing but dead men.

"You احمق سخيف. Quit that."

( translate; "...fucking idiot." )

One arm disappeared behind Silvia's back, ripping her medical kit off of her belt while the other took ahold of Kara's wrist. She was still gentle, in her touches- she always was.

"Let me see what I can do."

She left the question +

man this is bullshit.

PASS THE BALL.

YOU CAN'T PLAY.

Silvia ignored the petname, glare still hard as adrenaline finally began to settle. Had she really reverted into a more mission-focused mindset, over this?

"Do you need more, Caelina?"

to make Caelina think alittle more. Not necessarily guilt, just a highlight of what could happen.

fingers through Caelina's hair, an attempt to help ease her.

"Now, I need to worry about you overdoing it..."

She wouldn't actually worry about it, or even really care if Caelina did end up over-feeding from her. So long as she wasn't killed, obviously, but the point was still there.

An attempt +

The Gamma rolled her eyes, continuing to press against bruises until she reached the last fresh one- at least visible to her. She could reassess later, if needed.

"I can give you a hunt," she scolded, scooting closer to the vampiress and setting her head in her lap. It was just so she could run +

she always?

This time, her presence was sheer coincidence, instead of a response to the redheads' demands, but the point was still there.

"You احمق سخيف, I am a phone call away. You don't need to hunt, if you're hungry."

( translate; "...fucking idiot," )

"Relax," she breathed, carefully pushing Caelina back down and properly holding the fresh wound to Maneater's lips. Her other hand gently pressed against each bruise, feeling for not only broken bones, but reactions.

At least most of the wounds appeared superficial.

"I've got you..."

Didn't +

combat related trauma.

What were the odds..?

Silvia ran the edge of her shears along her palm, placing the bleeding appendage overtop of Caelina's lips. Maybe it would work to accelerate something.

Or not.

Silvia dropped to a knee beside Caelina, allowing her ruck to thud onto the ground beside her as she instinctively reached into one of the side pockets and removed a basic trauma kit.

Nothing too major. She couldn't run IVs out of this, nor begin a blood transfusion, but it was enough for most +

"The fuck happened?"

Could Kara really expect a different reaction? At least Silvia didn't appear to want to fight... Or shoot her.

(and the entirety of her left) were protected by a glove.

"Could ask the same," she replied, placing her hand on the tip of that staff and quietly pushing it to the side. Her identity took a moment to reveal- first, the removal of her helmet, then a balaclava... Then shaking out her hair. +

Certain mannerisms would shine through, as Silvia finally closed the distance and got to her... Whatever. Maybe not friend. Not recently.

The slight limp in her walk, despite the fluidity in the rest of her movements- missing digits remained uncovered, although the rest of her hand +

Chasing Ghosts

her guitar while screaming- maybe it was, but she didn't particularly care. She never did.

had, Silvia wouldn't have cared. This wasn't for Kaja- it wasn't for the limited personnel in the flight deck, or the AI that had surely caught the shout and scrambled to check the camera feeds. For once, it was for her.

If she weren't a Spartan, it'd be impressive that she could keep pace on +

gone.

"...𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝗮𝘁,
𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗿𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗻'𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲!
𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲, 𝗻𝘂𝗺𝗯 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻!
𝗙𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘆!

𝗜'𝗺 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮 𝗴𝗵𝗼𝘀𝘁,
𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸,
𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗜'𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝘆!"

She screamed so loud that she hardly caught Kaja's nagging, but even if she +

Truly, Kaja couldn't have picked a shittier time to open the door if she wanted quiet- because as soon as she did, Silvia's chorus elevated into a scream.

No... Not a scream. A wail, filled with the same emotions her usual tone could never truly express. Like she was dying, instead of already +

the smaller and less-trafficked hangars, propped against a stack of ammunition crates for one of the VTOLs within.

Hopefully they wouldn't get spun up, soon.

Originally, she had started light in her song and acoustics. But it was Silvia, after all, it wouldn't take long for things to get heavy.

// starter for @trespassingtales.bsky.social.

It was increasingly difficult to find more... Private, places to play. The obvious answer would be her own quarters, or her office, but both of those meant that others would be able to easily find her and disturb her.

Instead, she opted for one of +